Simple
by Kaytrina
Summary: Short scenes, in no particular order, with no plot connection or timeline, of the wonderfully weird, yet fascinating relationship between Sheldon and Penny. My first smut is in chapter 4, so beware.
1. Chapter 1

It started with angles.

Beautifully proportioned angles, to be sure, but located in an area that Sheldon had paid no attention to before. Penny had risen from the couch after a Lord of the Rings marathon, raised her arms high above her head, and stretched. Her back arched, her tank top inched itself up and over her hips, her navel, to rest just below the swell of her breasts.

The gentle curve of her spine, the sinuous lines of her narrow waist as it dipped and flared out to her hips. It was…fascinating.

Why had he just now noticed the beautifully proportional geometry of Penny? Was it circumstance? That finicky bastard called Chance? Or was it the way the warm light of late afternoon had settled on her skin, the play of light and shadow that highlighted those curves by which Sheldon seemed to be quite stricken. For a moment, he imagined running his hands over those concave and obtuse angles, tracing the line of her back with his finger, working the math of her body with his palms.

Sheldon averted his gaze as Penny dropped her arms and flopped back onto the couch. The patch of skin disappeared back under her tank top. She tucked her legs beneath her and asked them all what they wanted for dinner tonight - it was Thai night, and she had a craving for some spring rolls.

With a strange rush of relief, Sheldon took it upon himself to point out that the Spring Roll Appetizer came with only four rolls, and for every person to have a roll, they would have to order two appetizers, which would only exacerbate the problem as that would leave three extra rolls to distribute amongst five people.

Penny rolled her eyes and picked up the phone, sending him a pointed look when she ordered the Pad Thai, Drunken Noodles, Hot Red Chicken Curry, and the Spring Roll Appetizer with one extra roll.

"Simple," she said as she clicked off the phone and tossed it to him.

No. Not simple, Sheldon thought. He couldn't see those equations jumbled beneath her clothes anymore, but he knew they were there. He was curious.

And as anyone who knew him could tell her, a curious Sheldon is very dangerous indeed.


	2. Optional Social Conventions

Christmas was over.

Thank freaking God.

Penny usually adored Christmas - the lights, the gifts, spending time with the ones you care about most. But this year…well, joy had been sucked out of apartments 4A and 4B like time into a black hole.

And the black hole's name was Beverly Hofstadter.

Not that Beverly's visit hadn't had it's high points. Beverly was surprisingly funny when she was wasted. And affectionate. And…erm…forceful.

Penny flicked her eyes to Sheldon, who sat at his laptop with his back to her. She contemplated the back of his head. Sheldon had been kissed, quite thoroughly, by a woman old enough to be his mother. And he didn't fight her off, freak out, pass out, or go into a panic-induced coma or anything. He had just stood there, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Totally not what she had expected his reaction to be.

This made Penny curious.

"Sheldon?" she asked.

"Yes, Penny?"

"What did you think of that kiss?"

Sheldon visibly stiffened, and swiveled his chair to face her. "I think that kiss was a result of your own highly irresponsible behavior. Beverly's frontal cortex is a treasure, and you and your alcohol decimated her poor neurons like the Death Star to Alderaan."

"Hey," Penny said, temper rising, "I didn't hold her down and pour that tequila down her throat. She could've said no if she didn't want it."

He just glared at her, and she crossed her arms. "Did you like it?" she continued.

"What?"

"The kiss. Did you like kissing her?"

Sheldon huffed and swiveled back around to his computer. "I am not answering that question."

Jackpot. Needle time.

Penny hopped up. "Oh, come on, Sheldon! You can tell me - I won't tell anyone else, I promise!" She settled her hip onto his desk, and he glared up at her. "Telling your friends about your hook ups is one of the best parts of hooking up! It's what friends do. It's a…non-optional social convention."

Sheldon narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"It's true! Ask anyone." Penny settled onto his desk and leaned toward him. "Now spill. Did you like the kiss?"

He eyed her warily a few more moments, then dropped his gaze to his feet. "It…was unexpected. And hard. I cut my lip on my teeth." His lip curled in a grimace. "She tasted stale. Like alcohol. So the answer is no. I didn't like it at all."

Sheldon swiftly scooted his chair back up to his laptop and began clicking away. Penny watched him for a few moments, almost feeling sorry for him. "Was that your first kiss?"

"If you mean first kiss conducted with sexual motivations, yes. I believe so." he replied, not looking up from his work.

Well, now she felt really bad. First kisses were supposed to be magical - hearts thumping, stomachs fluttering, eyes closing, sparks flying. A shitty, unwanted first kiss pretty much ruined that special moment that only happens once. And when that kiss comes at age 27, well…that's just salt in the wound.

"Really," Sheldon continued, "the whole experience just confirmed my hypothesis that oral stimulation is both overrated and needless. I was puzzled by the population's obsession with physical acts of affection before, and now that I've experienced it myself, I am further convinced of the superiority of my genetic makeup."

Penny rolled her eyes. "Sheldon, that kiss is not what it's supposed to be like."

He stopped typing, and looked up at her. "What are they supposed to be like?"

In that moment, his face open and eyes wide, Penny realized that despite his freakish IQ and arrogant demeanor, Sheldon was still incredibly innocent when it came human contact. To someone as experienced and jaded as Penny, that innocence was utterly fascinating. It made her want to protect him, and at the same time…test him.

"Do you want me to show you?"

The words were out before she could stop them. Part of her wanted to clap her hands over her mouth. The other part really just wanted to see what he would say.

"I don't understand the question."

Of course. Well, she had blundered her way into this…she wouldn't be Penny if she didn't see a huge mistake through to the end. She leaned toward him a little.

"Do you want me to show you what a real kiss is like?"

Sheldon remained puzzled for a few more seconds, then his eyebrows almost shot up past his hairline. Then he started to fidget.

"P…Penny, are you asking me…isn't there some sort of social taboo against engaging in oral stimulation with a person who already has a mate?"

"Usually. But this isn't going to be a romantic thing. It's just an example. An experiment." She grinned at him. "It's for science."

Sheldon pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "Well, I do hate making conclusions without gathering all possible data. It would be hypocritical of me to come to a conclusion without further experimentation." He eyed her warily. "You won't tell anyone?"

"I wouldn't want anyone knowing about this any more than you would."

He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers against the armrest. Penny sat patiently, waiting for some indication of whether she should proceed or turn tail and run and pretend this ridiculous situation had never happened.

"What do I have to do?"

Looks like this was happening. Penny hopped off her perch and pulled Sheldon up out of his chair. "Stand up. Standing/sitting kisses are for advanced students."

Sheldon stood mere inches in front of her. He put his hands on his hips, then crossed his arms, then dropped them, all the while glancing at the floor, the ceiling, the wall - anywhere but her face. Penny could almost feel the nervous tension coming off him in waves. She reached out and touched his arm.

"Chill, Sheldon. I'm not going to bite you." She was tempted to follow that up with the obligatory "much," but thought that Sheldon might just have a nervous breakdown if she even hinted that she would be using her teeth on him.

Sheldon looked down at her hand on his arm, then up to meet her eyes. "What should I do?"

"Just relax. Follow my lead. I'll show you what to do."

Penny closed the few inches of space between them and placed her left hand on his waist, her right hand on his chest, against his heart. She gazed up at him for a moment; his wide blue eyes were watching her every move, his heart beating a wild rhythm against her palm. She stood on her tiptoes, her hand slid from his heart to ghost over his collarbone and settle snugly around his neck. She moved closer, pausing only to flick her eyes up at him one more time before she gently pulled him forward and touched her lips to his.

Sheldon turned to stone under her hands. For one, two, three seconds, Penny kept her mouth completely still, waiting for him to adjust to the feel of her. When she felt his muscles relax under her fingers and his lips tentatively move against hers, she took it little deeper. She parted her lips and tucked her hand against his jaw, changed angles, and ran her tongue along his bottom lip.

This was the point that Penny figured Sheldon would freak out and back off. To her surprise, all he did was part his own lips a little, allowing her tongue to slip in between them. He lifted his hands, and they hovered a moment above her arms, her shoulders, before finally settling uncertainly on her waist.

Steady now. She angled her head again and pressed more fully against him, winding her fingers up into his hair and running her tongue along his teeth. She felt his own tongue hesitantly make contact with hers, and she slid against it. His fingers tightened into her skin. This was going well.

On a whim, she took his bottom lip between her teeth and gently tugged, letting the moist skin slide softly between her teeth.

Sheldon whimpered.

His hands moved from her waist to cup her face, his long fingers winding through her hair and pressed into her so hard she could barely breathe. His tongue was a force of nature now, winding and exploring and retreating, and when he tried her little teeth trick himself, her knees almost gave way. Penny briefly considered what sound he would make if she reached down and ran a hand over the obvious arousal that was currently grinding into her thigh, then stopped.

Penny pulled her mouth away from Sheldon's and took a step back. He reached out for just a moment, then dropped his hand. He was breathless, his dark hair was mussed and poking up at every angle. A light flush was spread across his cheeks, and his eyes were dark and intent. Penny almost dove right back in.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them quite sure what to say, until Penny couldn't take the silence.

"So. Was that better?"

"Mmnf."

"That's what a kiss is supposed to be like." she continued.

"Hmmn." Sheldon cleared his throat. "I…I see. Thank you for the clarification." He glanced down at himself, then back up at Penny, his face turning deep red. "Penny, if you'll excuse me, it seems I must go take care of something."

He turned and began to shakily make his way to the hall.

"Sheldon?"

He paused. "Yes, Penny?"

"You're a natural. A+. And don't tell Leonard."

Sheldon blinked, then sighed, and nodded. Even he, novice as he was, suspected that this experiment may have yielded very unexpected results. He paused again.

"Penny?"

"Yes, Sheldon?"

"Didn't you say that sharing hook up stories is a non-optional social convention?"

"I lied. It's totally optional. Except in this case. In this case, telling someone is NOT an option."

Sheldon shook his head and huffed, and continued down the hall. Social conventions were much more complicated than they had any right to be.


	3. Freudian Slip

Penny decided that living next to Sheldon was like living next to the train tracks. When you first move in, the train drives you absolutely, closing in on homicidally crazy. It comes by at all hours of the day, of the night, bowling you over with a constant stream of nails-across-a-chalkboard noise. After a while, you learn to live with it. You don't actually even really hear it anymore. Then you move again. And you lay there in your new house, in the dark, suffocating in the complete silence. You miss the noise. You miss the train.

Which explained why she felt so uncomfortable right now, sitting in "her" spot on the couch, the middle seat, watching an old episode of Doctor Who without hearing any comments on how "this" was physically impossible, or "that" wasn't how electrodes worked, or how if two manifestations of the same entity met and interacted that the entire universe would warp and cease to exist. Something about dividing by zero.

Silence. Eerie, unnatural silence. Especially since Sheldon the Train was sitting right there, in his normal spot, clicking away on his laptop. Dr. Stephanie had told him that his larynx now looked fine, but Sheldon, of course, insisted that he could still feel some inflammation, and his lymph nodes were still 2 cm larger than normal. In other words, he still refused to speak. And the fact that she was missing the near-constant river of data that spewed out of Sheldon's mouth made Penny question her own sanity a little. Shouldn't this be, like, a vacation or something?

She glanced at Sheldon, who was still staring silently into his laptop. Hm. No. This wasn't a vacation. This was just boring.

Then an idea.

Penny muted Doctor Who, stretched and sighed. "So, Sheldon. How's your larynx?"

Sheldon paused a moment, opened up a program on his laptop, then typed in a few keys. The Hawking-style voice simulator answered for him. "STILL INFLAMED, OBVIOUSLY. I APPRECIATE YOUR ASKING, THOUGH."

Penny smiled, slowly. "How was that tea you borrowed?"

His face brightened, pleased. "THE TEA HELPED IMMENSELY. YOUR FRUITY BLEND WAS NOT AS EFFECTIVE AS MY USUAL EARL GREY WOULD HAVE BEEN, BUT IT WAS ACCEPTABLE NONETHELESS."

Her smile turned up into a smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun. "And how about my…hiney? I bet it went great with that tea."

Sheldon snapped his head towards her and glared.

She struggled to keep a straight face as she continued. "Yep. My hiney is delicious." She casually draped an arm around the back of the couch and flicked an imaginary speck of dust from Sheldon's shoulder. "Soft," she continued, "Smooth. Sweet."

Sheldon retreated as far as he could go into his corner, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. A light flush spread across the bridge of his nose as he typed up a message. "PENNY, YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL THAT MY ASKING FOR YOUR HINEY WAS AN UNFORTUNATE TYPO."

"Oh, Sheldon, you don't have to be shy. There's nothing wrong with wanting a little hiney with your tea. And, admit it," Penny brought her lips up to his ear. "I've got the best hiney in Pasadena."

If Sheldon pressed any harder into the opposite side of the couch, Penny thought she might actually have to dig him out of the padding with a shovel. He practically threw himself off the couch, clutching his laptop, flustered and blushing furiously. It seemed he was trying to punch holes in his keyboard as he typed his reply.

"PENNY, YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT WHEN I MISTAKENLY ASKED FOR YOUR HINEY. FROM NOW ON, WHEN I NEED SOMETHING FROM YOU, I WILL THINK TWICE BEFORE ASKING FOR TIT."

If Penny was offered anything in the world right at that moment, she would have asked for the dawning horror on Sheldon's face as that message played to be recorded so she could watch it every day. It took every ounce of control she had to reign in the gut-busting laughter that was threatening to bubble out.

"Well, well, well, Sheldon. First you want my hiney, and now you want my tits? You animal!"

Sheldon's head was going to explode. And she didn't even have to use any psychic powers. He was twitching like tweaked out crackhead. She felt a little bad for him.

Penny gave him a big, cheeky grin. "Relax, Sheldon. I'm just playing with you. I know what you meant."

Sheldon relaxed visibly as she stood and started gathering her things. "I just, you know, missed your voice, as weird as that sounds." She paused in front of him. "I miss fighting with you."

Penny stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. He watched her as she made her way to the door. She opened it and turned one last time.

"And I can't blame you. No one can resist my hiney."

Sheldon scowled and Penny laughed as she shut the door behind her.


	4. Combustion

His eyes. His eyes were incredible. Steady, attentive, a little predatory, and dark with want. And he watched her, so intently, drinking in her face, her breasts, her hips. No one had every looked at her like this, like having her naked and beneath him was something beautiful, fascinating, something miraculous.

And she was so…hot. She wanted him. Wanted him in a way that pooled deep in her belly, that made her desperate, that gave her a mad need to whimper whenever his face flickered into her thoughts. His hands, his graceful, capable hands with those long, precise fingers, slid from her knees, up her thighs, over her hips, and she did whimper. He ran his tongue in a slow circle around her navel, kissed his way up her belly, the slight rise of her ribs, her breast, and pulled a nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth.

She gave a small gasp of pleasure as he teased it with his tongue, nipped with his teeth. Looking down on him like this, with his dark hair mussed and his skin flushed and just as crazy and lost and delirious as any man drowning in flesh, seeing him glance up at her those eyes, searching for signs of her approval as he tried to please her, was enough to almost set her aflame.

She pulled him up, locked eyes as she took his left hand in her right. She placed his hand over her, guided his fingers into her slick, wet heat. "Do you feel this, Sheldon?" She drew his fingers slowly, back and forth. "Do you know what this means?"

He was watching his hand move between her legs. A small bead of sweat rolled down his temple and onto his shoulder. "Th…that your body is readying itself for intercourse?"

The tip of his finger brushed her clit and she gasped. Penny pulled his lips to hers, kissed a line up his jaw to press her lips next to his ear. "It means I want you, Sheldon. I want this," she ran her hand over the erection peeking out of his pajama pants, "inside of me. I want you inside of me." She bit down softly on the tendon between his neck and shoulder, and wrapped her hand around his length, and it was Sheldon's turn to gasp.

Those long fingers moved a little faster, and Penny moaned as he slid them up into her. She brought her hand up to her mouth, smirked at Sheldon as she licked her palm, and wrapped it back around his cock. His fingers moved, and her hand moved, and the sheets whispered and the bed creaked, and when he stopped Penny could have cried.

"What's wrong?" She could barely find her voice.

Sheldon drew his fingers away and looked down at them. "I…I don't know what to do. I don't know how to touch you."

Penny would never in her life have thought that her heart would ache for a man who didn't know how to touch her in bed. She took his hand and pushed his fingers back to her core. "Sheldon, it's okay." She smirked up at him. "I'll teach you."

Sheldon gave her a hesitant smile in return, and pushed his fingers back into her. Penny hummed in approval, and leaned back against the headboard. "Move them. In and out, slowly."

His fingers started to move, and Penny thought that just having Sheldon obeying orders might be enough to make her come. But he was watching her expectantly, waiting for his next instruction, so she continued. "Mmmm. Now curl your fingers up, like you're calling someone to you."

His fingers curled, and Penny gasped. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Hit that spot again."

He did, again and again and again. Penny's hips lifted to meet his hand, and she let her head drop. Sheldon ducked his head to take her breast back into his mouth, and she started to cry out in time with the thrust of his fingers. She lifted her head to watch him, and the sight of his fingers disappearing between her spread thighs, his lips wrapped around her breast nearly made her lose it. Sheldon pulled back and met her eyes. Then he ran his thumb over her clit.

Penny exploded. She slung her head back and cried out, loud and long. Her thighs clenched around his hand, and her back arched off the bed. And through it all she could feel Sheldon's eyes on her. Watching. Learning.

Breathless and sweating, she pushed him back and rolled him over. He looked puzzled, but his eyes went blank as she straddled him and ground herself into his hips. Slow, agonizingly slow, she pulled his pajama bottoms down his thighs, freeing his erection to the warm, moist air. She moved back along his legs, taking his pants with her, until she finally jerked them off his feet and flung them across the room to land in a puddle by his dresser. He felt the instinctual urge to pick them up and fold them, but then Penny was sliding her way back up his legs, crawling like a predatory cat, her nipples lightly brushing over his skin, and he forgot about the pants.

When she got to his penis, hard and long and pressing up against his stomach, she ducked her head and caught his eyes as she ran her tongue along the underside of it, then swirled it around the head before taking him all the way into her mouth.

Sweet Jesus.

Sheldon fisted his hands into the sheets and she worked him with her mouth, sucking and sighing and licking and wrapping her fingers around the base while she flicked the tip with her tongue. And the sight of her. The image of her blonde hair pooled on his abdomen, on his sheets, those eyes looking up at him while her lips wrapped around his cock. It was almost too much.

Penny let him slip out of her mouth with a little pop, and continued her way up his chest to whisper in his ear. "Just relax now."

She leaned back, braced one palm on his chest and reached between them with the other. She lifted her hips and positioned him at her entrance. And Sheldon's mind went blank.

Penny lowered herself slowly onto him, savoring that delicious sensation of being filled, and the beautiful play of emotions flitting across Sheldon's face, from surprise, to comprehension, to ecstasy. His breathing was erratic, shallow gasps, and she could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his skin.

And then his hands were at her waist, his fingers digging into her skin, and he was moving inside of her. She braced her hands on his chest and met the upward thrust of his hips, their bodies meeting audibly in the middle, both of them crying out as they met. He pulled her down against his chest, using a hand on the small of her back to keep pushing her hips up and down around him, and pressing his lips to her temple. Penny was making little gasping noises, and her moist breath was in his ear, and her breasts were pressing into his chest, and he couldn't get close enough or deep enough to satisfy whatever was building inside of him.

Penny tightened her thighs around him and whispered, "Sheldon. The spot. Hit that spot."

Sheldon paused and nodded, did a few calculations in his head, then shifted her above him and thrust hard into her. Penny made a high-pitched moan and Sheldon cried with her as she tightened around him. She sat up and moved faster, riding him. Sheldon watched as she reached between them to touch herself, and he felt the end coming hard and fast.

"P…Penny. I'm…I'm going…"

She was too far gone. With a few more flicks of her finger, Sheldon felt her muscles clench around him like a vice and she threw her head back and cried his name. And Sheldon fell over with her.

They collapsed in a mass of sweat and flesh, gasping against each other, their hearts attempting to burst from their chests. Then Penny hummed and stretched and kissed his neck.

"Jesus, Sheldon. That was incredible."

Sheldon had to agree. "Yes. Unexpectedly powerful." He glanced away from her. "What are your thoughts on…repeating the experience in the near future?"

She propped her head in her hand and grinned. "Are you asking me to have sex with you on a regular basis?"

"If the experience was pleasurable for us both, I see no reason why we should stop after only one encounter. If you're worried about the specifics, I will of course draw up a contract to work out the details. If you…if you agree." He was fiddling with the sheets as he spoke, obviously uncomfortable.

Penny grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. "I would be very open to doing this again, Sheldon. No contract needed."

Sheldon nodded, and began working out the terms he would include in the contract that he was going to draw up anyway. Penny tucked her head against his shoulder, and he hesitantly wrapped his arm around her waist.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

Penny snuggled against him. "Well, I don't know about you, but I kinda like to sleep after sex."

Sheldon considered this and nodded. "Yes. Sleep is acceptable."

They didn't even bother with the covers.


	5. Between the Lines

Author's Note: There has been some confusion over the sequence of events in these little ficlets. "Simple" is a collection of one-shots. They have no connecting plot or timeline. A scene pops in my head, I write it down, and I have one place to put them all instead of having 20 itty-bitty fics scattered all over . Hope this clears up any confusion.

…

She.

Like he, but softer, warmer. More tongue, more lips.

How fitting.

He liked to play with the word. "She" was coming over. "She" would take him to the comic book store. "She" was sitting in his spot.

That little "s" made all the difference. Hearing that "he" would pick him up tomorrow was so dull by comparison.

Perhaps it was the novelty. They'd never had a "she" before. Not like her. It made everything she did so confusing. And interesting. A brain teaser to mull over. x = Day(Mood) - Order + Vanilla/Pink. Solve for x. There was no inherent logic. She ruled over them all with her sunshine and her scent and her total irrationality.

It bothered him. And scared him. His mind wandered around her. Followed her into shoes and TV and friendships and stupid movies with formulaic plots. He was not oblivious - he was self aware enough to know that if he wasn't careful, he would do any little stupid thing she asked of him just to keep her smiling at him like that. For that warm jolt of something unidentifiable whenever he pleased her. And when had it become necessary to exert mental control, to have to consciously make the decision to ignore her requests? His instinct had never, ever been acquiescence.

Except that one time. When he was 13 and home for the summer, and Missy had a friend. She was nice to him. Said hello, asked about his experiments, wanted to see how they turned out. He had found his ears pricking whenever Missy mentioned her name and his stomach fluttering when his mother told him that Missy's friend was coming over and to be nice. He would even quietly excuse himself to his room, run a brush through his hair, change his shirt into something she might think was cool. Would she like the Superman shirt? Maybe the Batman? She would ask him questions, and he would answer, no matter how dumb they were, and she would touch his shoulder and he would blush.

And then Missy realized it. She wasn't very smart, but she was observant. And she humiliated him. In front of her. He could still see the girl's young face, awkward and embarrassed and filled with pity for the weird little kid who wanted something way, way out of his reach. He could still hear Missy laugh.

And now it was back. Warmth and fluttering and that entirely frustrating way the air between them seemed to thicken and buzz with something. His ill-behaved attention, probably. When she touched him, even the slightest accidental nudge, his world was suddenly composed only of the little patch of skin under her fingers. All brain power focused on those neurons registering her touch.

All of this bundled with a heaping pile of fear and paranoia. If he couldn't keep this tightly locked up, barred and banished, it would lead to inevitable humiliation. If the guys found out, it would be awful. Jokes, snide remarks, eyebrow wagging and snickering. He would have to move. And if she found out…good Lord. Even imagining how she would look at him, or worse, not look at him, made him feel nauseated. The last thing he wanted in the world, wanted even less than Kripke winning the Nobel, was her pity. So he was ever vigilant. Sharp, stinging words, careful distance, at least a half-hearted objection to everything she asked. Rejection is easier given than received.

And if he was always there when she needed him, if he bent his rules for her, if he always rose to the occasion when she baited him…well. That could all be hidden under the handy guise of friendship. He'd been told that was what friends did. And in the meantime, he would just try very hard not to analyze why when he secretly glanced at her, as he often did, he'd catch her glancing back.


	6. Risk

It started out small. Incidental.

Penny moved her "spot" from the chair to his left to the cushion to his immediate right. For Sheldon, such a move would have been monumental, but for her, just another random occurrence in her general chaotic modus operandi. Her moods were quicksilver and her preferences as uncertain as elementary particles.

Raj was a little put out. How was he to speak without utilizing Howard, who sat on the far right cushion (or left cushion, depending on your perspective of the couch, of course), as a bullhorn? After a few instances of Raj scurrying across the room with a comment, a few exasperated squeaks, and desperate looks of pleading (to which Penny just widened her eyes in what Sheldon assumed was meant to be innocent ignorance), Howard sighed in defeat and huffily moved to perch on the arm of what was now apparently "Raj's" chair.

It didn't help their cause of proving Beverly's determination of their relationship as false, but Sheldon thought it wise not to bring this up. Besides, it really wasn't an issue that concerned him in any way.

What did concern him was that Penny did not take advantage of the vacated cushion. Sheldon had assumed that Penny's move was a shrewdly calculated power play to conquer more space in this shared territory of the apartment – break up the Howard-Raj alliance to expand her territory from one chair to two cushions. Her main base (Sheldon refused to designate this as her "butt") would be set up on Howard's territory, while her outlying settlements (or "feet," if one wanted to be dull) would occupy the environs of Raj's cushion. Sheldon had actually been a bit impressed by her machinations, especially since her ploy would garner himself more space as well, as long as her feet stayed to the exact center of that middle cushion. And if her feet started to drift too close to what was now the "Penny/Sheldon" border, a strong warning should fend her off. Sheldon refused to allow Penny to become the Nazi Germany of "spots." But he had strayed from his point…

No, Penny had left Howard's cushion as it was, and her "main base" remained firmly planted right next to him.

This bothered Sheldon, for a few reasons.

First, the equilibrium of the couch was now off-balance. Where there had once been, if not equal, at least comparable weight on all three segments of the couch, there was now an imbalance on one end. Second, all semblance of symmetry had been thrown right out. Third, Penny touched him. Penny touched him a lot.

Her arm would brush against him. Her left knee would bump his right. Her fingers would sometimes skim along the outside of his thigh. When she fell asleep during a Discovery Channel documentary on black holes (of course she couldn't even be bothered to pay attention to the most watered-down educational programs he could find for her), her head had fallen slightly to the left, and her temple had settled against his shoulder. The sight of her hair falling onto his dark blue Superman t-shirt, pooling into the crook of his elbow, a few strands stirred by her sleepy sigh, unsettled him.

These little touches, these brief nudges, appeared to be perfectly accidental, but Sheldon couldn't shake the feeling that Penny, evil little shrew that she was, did it on purpose.

Just now, while they were all gathered in the dark to watch a midnight marathon of classic Twilight Zone episodes, she had curled her feet underneath her, and the top half of one of those feet had settled itself snugly against his leg.

He stared at it. There were no words to express how much that foot was disturbing him. If he opened his mouth, he would surely only splutter and fume and curse. All sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Sheldon squirmed farther to his left, pressing himself against the arm of the couch. Moments later, Penny shifted, and the foot returned. He glared at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be paying no attention, her focus totally on the TV screen.

Sheldon jiggled his leg a bit, attempting to shake her off.

She wiggled her toes.

"Penny." His voice broke the silence. Penny calmly turned her head, her eyebrows raised in question, her foot still wedged against his thigh. Like she had no idea what was wrong. He clenched his teeth. "Kindly remove your foot from my person."

Penny gave him a bright, sweet, evil smile, and he could almost see her eyes glitter with ill-intent in the glow of the screen. "Oh, I'm sorry, Moonpie. Am I crowding you?"

She uncurled her legs while he glared at her over the unfair use of the nickname, and removed the offending foot. Then she stretched and propped them on the coffee table, settling back down into the center cushion. Attention was turned back to the show, and peace returned to all.

Except for Sheldon.

Her fingers kept brushing his knee.


	7. The Most Feared Warriors in the Land

The whole operation had been a disaster from the start.

His group, the best and brightest of the CalTech Physics Department, had miscalculated almost every variable that could be miscalculated – the aggression of the opponents, the sophistication of the weapons at their disposal, the cutthroat tactics that they would employ without provocation or remorse.

The CalTech English Department paintball team was absolutely brutal and had decimated the Physics team's forces only minutes into the battle.

Sheldon huddled behind a thick trunk of a tree. He could see his team's flag behind the short wall of sandbags that served as the Team base. The few Physics fighters that remained after the initial onslaught of those vicious Literature post-grads were keeping the flag secure for the moment, but there was no way they could defend and turn another full-force attack. They would be slaughtered, and the Physics team would suffer the ugliest loss in team history.

Unless.

Unless someone got to the English team's flag first.

The time had come for Sheldor the Brave to prove his title.

Sheldon steeled his nerve and carefully poked his head from his hiding place. There was no sign of the enemy, but there was no doubt in his mind that they were out there, biding their time in the shadows of the forest surrounding their base. If he went any farther into the thicket, the covering fire supplied by his compatriots would be useless. He'd be on his own.

"The needs of the many," Sheldon whispered. He took a deep breath, readied his weapon, and took off like a shot into the trees. He could hear paintballs whizzing past his ear as he dove behind a bush a few hundred yards into enemy territory. Every few seconds, a little ball would fly over his head and splatter against the trees behind him, spraying him with a mist of yellow or green or blue.

Movement to his left caught his eye. Without thought, Sheldon whipped his air pistol around and fired off a series of shots. The English fighter that had attempted to ambush him gave a short yell as Sheldon's purple paint balls smacked him in the face and torso.

"Hey, dude, you aren't supposed to aim at the face!" the boy shouted as he lay down in the semblance of death.

Sheldon shrugged and shook his head, resigned. "Sorry, son," he said sadly, "but as they say…war is hell." The now-dead fighter continued scowling and muttering at him through the purple paint on his face, but Sheldon took no more notice of what should have been a still, _silent_ corpse.

Defending against the ambusher had used up what was left of the clip in his weapon, so Sheldon reached for the bag of reserve ammo he kept tied to his belt. His brow furrowed as his hand slid around the cloth sack. The weight of it seemed off…

Oh, dear Lord.

It was empty.

A quick examination of the bag revealed a tear in the stitching at the bottom, no doubt a result of his first desperate dive for cover during the first assault. He had been dropping ammo across the forest floor for almost the entirety of the battle. Now he was separated from his team, cornered, and completely out of ammo.

Sheldon was screwed.

He ran through his choices. Make a break back for the Physics base? No, the attackers out there were waiting for him to make a move, and everyone would see from the shots on his back that he had died while retreating. Sheldon's sense of honor wouldn't stand for that. Continue on to the enemy base, running from cover to cover until he went out in a glorious, if futile, one-man-empty-handed attack on the enemy base? Possibly. The only other option was to surrender, which really wasn't an option at all, in Sheldon's opinion.

Desperate, futile, empty-handed attack it was.

The enemies surrounding him seemed to sense his desperation. Sheldon strained his Vulcan ears as he heard them talking.

"I think he's out of ammo," said a light voice, obviously female.

"Yeah, he would have come out already if he had any kind of options," said a deeper voice.

"We should ambush him," said a third, another male. "Serves him right after shooting Alex in the face like that."

"I'm pretty sure that's the Cooper guy," the female said. She raised her voice so Sheldon could hear. "I hear he's a complete nutjob."

Sheldon scowled but kept quiet. The more they talked, the more distracted they would be, giving Sheldon a better chance of progressing to their base.

"No more talk," said the first male. "Let's finish the job."

Sheldon's heart sank. Looked as if his glorious death would come here, in the bushes, rather than at the walls of the enemy forces. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and stood to face his death.

The next events happened in a blur of sound and motion.

Something dropped from the branches above Sheldon's head, landing with a "thunk" beside him. Sheldon heard a quick _pop-pop-pop _from an air rifle, and his three would-be killers yelled in surprise.

He cautiously opened his eyes to see the three assassins drop to ground, all sporting identical splatters of pink paint in the centers of their foreheads. What the…

"What's up, Moonpie?"

Sheldon turned his head to see his blonde neighbor, the bane of his existence, the only member of the Physics team who had absolutely no business being on the Physics team, decked out in camouflage and boots and giving him a sweet yet smartass grin that made him want to growl and smile back at the same time.

"Penny." Sheldon managed to say. "Did you teleport to this location, or did a doorway to another dimension open up and happen to spit another version of you out right here when you were needed most?"

"Huh?" she replied.

Sheldon sighed. "Where the name of Jesus did you come from?"

"Oh!" Penny said. "I was in the tree above you. Once I saw the losses our team took after the first assault, I took a sniper position to keep the pressure off the remaining forces."

Penny dropped to her knees behind Sheldon's cover, and he followed. She reached into her green army vest and took out her own sack of ammo.

"After the English team stopped advancing," she continued as she loaded Sheldon's gun with her ammo, "I was going to drop back to our base, sneak along the battlefield perimeter, and go at their flag from behind. But then you came along."

Sheldon grimaced at the bright pink paintballs now shining from his clip, then raised an eyebrow at her. "You were going to take on the entire enemy base by yourself?"

Penny shrugged. "If sneaking didn't work, I was just gonna take as many of them out as I could to make it easier for the rest of you."

Sheldon, despite himself, was touched.

Penny checked her own weapon and gear while she continued talking. "But now that you're here, we can use a cover-and-advance method – you supply cover fire for me while I advance, then I supply cover fire for you while you catch up."

She grinned up at him. The excitement and malice in her eyes almost made Sheldon take a step back. "Then we take the enemy flag together."

Penny held her hand out to him. "What do you say, partner? Sheldor and Queen Penelope, taking on the enemy in a wave of fire and blood?"

Sheldon stared at the hand she offered, tiny and yet capable of so much violence. The juxtaposition made something stir within him. He reached out and took it. It was warm, and soft, and Sheldon felt something heavy settle into his stomach as her fingers gripped his.

"Sheldor and Queen Penelope," he repeated, "The most feared warriors in the land."

"Damn right," Penny replied. They started off into the trees, then Sheldon stopped.

"Penny," he said. She stopped and turned to look at him. "Thank you for saving me."

The smile she gave him this time was soft and genuinely sweet. "My pleasure, Moonpie. Besides," she said as she took a few more steps to stand next to the female assassin she had taken out, "no one calls you a nutjob but me." She pointed her air rifle and the "dead" female wailed as Penny fired three more shots into her back.

Penny turned back to him with a huge grin and took off ahead. Sheldon couldn't help but smile as he followed, watching her blonde ponytail bounce after her.


	8. The Final Frontier

When Sheldon was eight, his elementary class had a party on Valentine's Day. The day before, each student decorated a paper bag with hearts and flowers and glitter and put their name on it. Then, they hung the bags in a row under the coat rack in the back of the classroom.

The next morning, as the students came in to hang their coats, they placed valentines into the bags of their friends and, with a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, the bag of the boy or girl who secretly made their tummy twist.

After they had their party – cookies and chips and punch – they retrieved their bags from beneath the coat rack and examined their haul.

The students laughed and teased as they opened their cards, whispered as they tried to work out who gave them which.

Sheldon took his bag from the wall and looked in.

Nothing.

He returned to his desk, stuffed the bag into his backpack, and pulled out the Trigonometry textbook he had borrowed from the library. He lost himself in the numbers as the laughter echoed around him.

Sheldon hated Valentine's Day.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Penny cried as she burst through the door of apartment 4A. She was decked out in red and pink, and her arms were full of red paper sacks.

The boys called out their greetings as she plopped the bags onto the coffee table. Each one had a name on it in big, loopy black letters. "I have presents for you guys!" she said with a big grin.

Howard ran an eye over the bags. "I hope it's something we _both_ can enjoy," he said, waggling his eyebrows and smirking.

"How about my fist connecting with your face?" Penny replied with a sweet, malicious smile.

"I don't think I would particularly enjoy that, but point taken."

Penny handed out the bags, or in Howard's case, threw it at his head, and looked around. "Where's Sheldon?"

"Holed up in his room," said Leonard, as he opened his bag. "He said he couldn't tolerate his eyes being molested by red, pink, and inaccurate representations of the cardiac muscle any longer." He popped a dairy-free caramel into his mouth and smiled at her. "It's been the best Valentine's Day I've ever had."

Penny grabbed the last bag and headed down the hall to Sheldon's room. She tapped on the door. "Sheldon?"

No answer.

She sighed, and resigned herself to the inevitable.

Tap-tap-tap. "Sheldon?" Tap-tap-tap. "Sheldon?" Tap-tap-tap. "Sheldon?"

The door opened a tiny crack, and a blue eye peeked out of her. "Yes, Penny?"

"I have a present for you. Open the door."

The blue eye dropped to the package in her hand, then back up to her face. "I don't acknowledge Valentine's Day."

"Well, I made you something anyway. Now, open the door."

"No. It would be against my code of ethics to verbally denounce the tradition yet take part in it." The tiny crack in the door slammed shut.

"Sheldon, you are the rudest, most ungrateful asshole ever created!"

A muffled voice replied from behind the door. "It is physically impossible for a human to be a rectum. And even if it was, I believe there are many blood-thirsty tyrants who deserve the classification more than I."

Penny huffed and fought the urge to kick the door down. She had been so proud of these bags! Sheldon's was filled with Red Vines, a new set of white-board markers, pink and red jellybeans (the only ones he ate, she had noticed), and a gift certificate for one free comic at Stuart's store. The card was a bit silly, but he would at least like the bag! She had been looking forward to one of Sheldon's rare compliments, maybe even one of his hugs.

Now she wondered why she had ever wanted those things.

She dropped the gift to the floor, and after a moment's hesitation, slipped the card under the door. If he wouldn't open the present, that asshole was at least going to have to pick up the card.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Sheldon was sitting on his bed, his arms crossed, when he saw a card slide under his door. A big red envelope. A vision of an empty paper bag fluttered across his mind, and he felt his chest constrict.

He rose, retrieved his letter opener from his desk drawer and, with a huff of annoyance, carefully extracted the card.

It was hand-made with pink construction paper and outlined in lace. A stick woman with a blonde ponytail seemed to be embracing a stick man with pointy ears. A crude representation of the S.S. Enterprise hovered in the background. Beneath the picture was a message.

"Love. The final frontier."

He opened it.

"You may be a whackadoodle, but you're _my_ whackadoodle. Happy Valentine's Day, Moonpie! Love, Penny."

Sheldon stared at the signature for a moment. Then he closed the card, and opened the door to his closet. He pulled down a small wooden box, closed tight and padlocked. After a series of twists and turns, he opened it. Inside was a collection of little things – letters from his Meemaw, prizes he had won, a picture of him, his mother, brother and Missy, and Meemaw's ring (for when "the right one comes along," she had said). He read the card over one more time, his eyes lingering on the signature, then placed the card with his other treasures and locked the box up tight.

The memory of the empty bag began to fade.


	9. Doppleganger

Sheldon had really been putting forth an effort to be polite.

Leonard's new girl was actually quite likeable, as far as Leonard's girls went – intelligent, polite, with a seemingly limited interest in the mundane topics girls typically liked to discuss. She was blonde and tall, and her name was Jenny, which tempted Sheldon to psychoanalyze Leonard's motives, but he had kept his mouth shut. It was rare that Leonard brought home girls that Sheldon could tolerate, so he would try his best to be accommodating.

It had all been going splendidly when Jenny plopped into the one place she never should have plopped. Sheldon froze as Jenny settled into his spot, and tried desperately to squelch the feelings of outrage and panic that started to rise within him. He could see Leonard gesturing wildly at her out of the corner of his eye.

Jenny stared at Leonard in confusion. "What are you…"

Sheldon stated, calmly, "You can't sit there."

A look of comprehension and slight horror dawned on Jenny's face, and she immediately sprang off the cushion. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Sheldon! Leonard told me you…um…liked things a certain way and had your own spot, but I forgot."

A calm settled over Sheldon as she exited his seat, and he was all set to offer a generous and rare assurance of "No harm done" when she settled in the cushion next to his. He froze. That feeling of outrage rose up again.

Something wasn't right about this, but he couldn't pinpoint why.

He stared at her, eye twitching, flingers clinching. Why was he upset about her sitting in that spot? It wasn't his spot. But every cell in his body was protesting that it wasn't _her_ spot either.

Leonard was eyeing him warily. "Sheldon? What's wrong now?"

Sheldon sputtered a moment while he stared at the wrong person sitting in that spot. The wrong color blonde, the wrong face, the wrong name. "You…you can't sit there, either."

"What?" Leonard protested. "Why? That's not your spot! When did you start caring about that spot?"

Sheldon swallowed, just as panicked and slightly outraged by his current realization as he had been over the offense.

"That's Penny's spot."

For the rest of the day, Leonard had this weird feeling that reality had shifted.


End file.
